Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

You must kill Deckard.
Before we even know what we are,
Born.
Superman does good - you're doing well.
I'm here for Mr. Wallace. I'm Luv.
or mathematical precision.
(SIGHS)
(INDISTINCT ANNOUNCEMENTS CONTINUE)
Let's dance.
MARIETTE: This is Freysa.
It's a tree.
(SIGHS)
JOI: I always told you.
K: Within cells interlinked.
(WHIRRING)
My parents had our passes in pocket, but I took sick.
- (ENGINES REVVING) - (INDISTINCT ANNOUNCEMENTS)
(CHILD COUGHS)
Come on home before the storm.
(AUTOMATED VOICE SPEAKING JAPANESE)
- Interlinked. - K: Interlinked.
That's not a name. That's a serial number.
(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)
Do you remember anything?
(MUSIC PLAYS AND STOPS)
(DOC BADGER SPEAKING OTHER LANGUAGE)
Yes.
Where, where, where, where?
A real boy needs a real name.
Bigger than you.
I think you can.
MAN: Dreadfully. K: Dreadfully.
Garlic.
- Cells. - Cells.
Huh.
(SIGHS)
I can't do that.
Someone lived this, yes.
And what's there is (CLICKS TONGUE)
Did you know this song was released
Is that what I smell?
- Oh, no, no, no. - I'm not buyin'.
ANNOUNCER 3: Joi goes anywhere you want her to go.
(CHUCKLES SOFTLY)
DECKARD: What'd you do?
You don't like real girls.
Well, except for the box of bones that you already took.
He wasn't long for this world.
(K SPITS)
Eight.
(BEEPS)
Go on, try some.
(ALARM BUZZES)
(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYS AND STOPS)
You do not know what pain is yet.
You have to delete me from the console.
she's been buried for 30 years.
when your friend brings home your dat
And the boy...
ANA: I promise I hear every word.
(DEVICE CHIMING)
I need the child.
WALLACE: Off-world,
DECKARD: Must be expensive.
RACHAEL: I'd kill it.
had he not bought Tyrell,
plus the killing jar.
Military issue.
they're not real. They're just implants.
Welcome back, sir.
(CHAIR CLATTERING)
(SIGHS)
Now, who keeps a dead tree?
We all thought it would be a boy...
(DOG PANTING)
(PANTING)
(ANNOUNCEMENTS CONTINUE INDISTINCTLY)
Uh... (CLICKS TONGUE)
Oh I have millions
Sit.
Thought you weren't interested, worky man.
It is invigorating being asked personal questions.
Half as much but twice as elegant, sweetheart.
YOUNG DECKARD: There's a wasp crawling on your arm.
Voilà! Bon appétit.
It's done.
Maybe he ate it.
(JOI LAUGHING)